Second Choice: 15/?
by Nan Smith
Previously:
He shook his head. "Nobody knows about me but you and Wayne, and you're the only one who knows about the powers," he said. "The only thing we can do is wait."
"I don't have any way to back it up," Lois said, "but I have the feeling that it's going to be all right. You feel all right, don't you?"
"More or less -- except for not having any powers."
"That's what puzzles me," Lois said. "This stuff knocked you out and took away the powers you've had since you were what -- eleven?"
"I started getting stronger at ten, but I think I'd been getting harder to hurt before that -- I never got a skinned knee or a cut after I was about eight, although I picked up a few minor bruises. I fell out of my tree house when I was nine and landed on the back of my neck. I was a little sore for a while but I was fine by morning. Looking back now, I should probably have been killed."
"So you've had at least some of your powers for nearly ten years," Lois said. "It doesn't make sense that this green crystal could just take them away. I wonder if it's sort of like a cold and when your body overcomes it, they'll come back."
He kissed the tip of her nose. "Maybe. I hope you're right."
"I'll bet I am."
The sound of a car engine outside made Clark release her. "That's probably Pete. I've got to change."
"I'll tell him you'll be right down," Lois said.
**********
And now, Part 15:
He was pulling the shirt over his head when Lois opened the door and slipped inside. She put her finger to her lips. "It's Daddy!" she said in a whisper.
"Your father?" Clark tucked the shirt into his jeans and tightened the belt. At her nod, he reached for the comb and ran it quickly through his hair. "I guess you'd better let him in. I'll be right down. Where's your mother?"
"In the kitchen, looking for the aspirin, she says. She has a hangover, just like I predicted."
"I figured she would," Clark said. "You'd better tell her the aspirin's in the bathroom."
"Actually, I think she went looking for the vodka," Lois said, a faint note of disgust in her voice. "She sometimes does that to try to get the hangover to go away."
"Does it work?" Clark asked curiously.
"I have no idea." She turned back toward the door. "He's knocking. Don't take too long."
"I'll be right there."
True to his word, he descended the stairs barely two minutes later, while Lois was still letting her father in. Sam Lane looked exactly the same as he had the other night, except for the lack of a lab coat.
"Hello, Dr. Lane," Clark said.
"Hello, Clark." Sam Lane was looking around the interior of the farmhouse. "This is a very charming house."
"It's my parents' house, sir. They left it to me."
"I'm aware of that, but I expected it to be somewhat run down. I believe you said that your parents were killed eight years ago. It's in very good condition."
"I've been renovating it," Clark said. "I'm not completely finished with it, but --"
"You've done a good job. I came to see what sort of conditions my daughters were living in. I'm pleasantly surprised."
"Thank you, sir."
"Is Lucy around?" he asked.
"Lucy will be home in an hour or so," Lois said. "She stayed overnight at a friend's."
"Will you come in and sit down?" Clark asked. "I can make some coffee."
"Thank you. Is Ellen here?"
"Yes," Lois said expressionlessly. Her father looked at her with a raised eyebrow.
"Hangover?"
"Yes."
Sam Lane sighed. "I don't know why I should ask. I'm sorry, Princess."
"Clark and I cope just fine," Lois said. "I've learned not to expect anything from Mother."
Lois's father entered the living room and took the chair that Lois indicated. He glanced toward the window where the sky was now a cottony mass of storm clouds. "It looks like rain."
"I thought so this morning," Clark said. "So, is there anything you'd like to know? Lois or I could show you around the place. Or if you'd like to know how Lucy's doing --"
"Actually, I'd like to talk to you about that," Sam Lane said uncomfortably. "The last time I tried to speak to her --" He let the sentence drop. "How is she?"
"She's doing all right," Lois said. "She's going into the eighth grade in the fall. Believe it or not, she was on the 'B' honor roll last semester -- Clark and I helped her with some of the lessons and she's doing better than she was in Metropolis."
"That's encouraging."
"She's also in Scouts. She earned another badge on their camping trip last weekend, and she's made some new friends."
"Who did she stay with last night?"
Clark spoke up. "Celia Johnson. She's the granddaughter of our closest neighbor, Wayne Irig."
Sam nodded. "I'm not really trying to pry. I just feel that I should pay more attention to what my children are doing than I did, considering the situation. How are *you* doing, Princess?"
"Better," Lois said. "The morning sickness seems to have gone away."
"That's good," he said. "Have you seen a prenatal specialist yet?"
"Yes," Lois said. "He says everything is going well and my due date is January twelfth."
"Good. I want my grandchild to be born healthy. I hope you remember that alcohol of any kind should be avoided, Princess."
"You couldn't *pay* me to drink!" Lois said. "If it weren't for Mother, we wouldn't even have any in the house!"
Her father gave an apologetic smile. "Sorry. I realize you have more reasons than most kids your age to stay away from alcohol but not everybody is as conscientious as you."
"One alcoholic in the family is enough," Lois said shortly. "I'm not in any hurry to drink."
"I think that's probably wise," Sam Lane said.
"Would you like to see Lucy's room?" Lois asked deliberately changing the subject. "Clark gave her the attic bedroom. It's warm, and bigger than Mother's. She loves it. She's always wanted a room of her own."
"I remember that," her father said, apparently relieved at the abrupt shift in the conversation. "You don't think she'd be happier in Metropolis?"
"Why don't you ask her," Lois said. "I think she's made more friends here than she had in New Troy."
"That's one positive thing," Sam agreed. "Is she happy?"
"As much as she can be," Lois said. "Mother doesn't make it easy. Still, that isn't any different than it was before."
He nodded. "I admit that it would be inconvenient to have a teenage girl living in the townhouse right now. My housekeeper wouldn't be the ideal chaperone for her. She's in her sixties, and couldn't possibly keep up with her. Still, if it's difficult for you, I could take her back to the city. If things become inconvenient, there's always that option. Of course, I'd have to deal with the legal issues before I did it, so if there's any problem, you should tell me now."
"There isn't any problem with Lucy," Lois said. "I think she's doing well. If there were some way to make Mother enter an alcohol rehab program it would be better for everyone, but --"
"Unfortunately, that would require a court order, and unless she does something that shows she's a danger to herself or to Lucy they're not likely to issue it," Sam said.
"I know." Lois got to her feet. "I'll show you Lucy's room."
Clark got to his feet as well. "Why don't you go with your dad," he suggested. "I'm sure you'd like to talk alone. I'll make the coffee and I need to start dinner, anyway." The truth was that he wanted to check on Ellen Lane. She had been in the kitchen for longer than she should have been if she were merely looking for the aspirin -- or the vodka, for that matter. Perhaps it was unworthy of him, but he simply didn't trust Lois's mother. She seemed to have lost ground just over the last couple of days. Of course, he hadn't been living in the same house with her before and Lois hadn't seemed to think anything was unusual about her behavior. Still, he couldn't help feeling uneasy when Ellen did something that wasn't within her usual pattern. He wanted to check on her without Lois's father being any the wiser. If what she was doing was harmless, she deserved the right to some level of privacy but if she wasn't, he wanted to know what it was.
Lois cast him an odd glance. She knew he wasn't being exactly truthful but apparently was willing to let it go for she started for the staircase. "This way, Daddy."
There was no one in the kitchen when he pushed the swinging door open. He frowned, thinking. Lois had said her mother was in the kitchen but it was possible that during the short time that Lois had been upstairs Ellen had, for some inscrutable reason, gone up to her room. He, of course, wouldn't have known since his super-hearing wasn't functioning.
Then he saw two things. The empty vodka bottle was in the trashcan and Lois's purse lay on the table. Open.
The bottle had been in the refrigerator this morning with about a half inch of its contents still remaining. Ellen must have finished it off and realized that there was no more to be found.
Instantly he ran to the window, looking out into the area of packed dirt between the house and the barn. The blue Volkswagen no longer sat in its customary spot and a quick riffle through Lois's purse told him that the car keys were not in it.
He pushed open the kitchen door, looking frantically around. The blue car was nowhere to be seen.
Ellen had taken the car and probably headed toward town to purchase herself more liquor. The fact that she had no license wouldn't have been a factor in her undoubtedly impaired state and he had no way of catching up, except possibly in Sam Lane's car. He had turned to retrace his steps to the house when he saw Pete Ross's car turn into the lane from the highway.
He ran toward Pete, waving his hands frantically. Pete pulled to a stop and rolled down the window. "Hi. What's the matter?"
"Did you see Lois's car go by out there?"
"Huh? I don't know. I wasn't paying attention. Some woman in a blue VW just about ran me off the road."
Clark pulled open the passenger door. "We've got to go after her."
"What's the matter?"
"Lois's mom has a...problem. She's not supposed to drive but sometimes she sort of forgets. We need to catch her before she kills somebody."
Pete pulled into the open area in front of the house and turned his car around without argument. "You mean like my Uncle Bert?"
"Yeah," Clark said, belatedly recalling the incident that had taken place when he and Pete had been fifteen. Pete's great uncle had crashed his car into a tree while driving under the influence and nearly killed two innocent bystanders. Bert Ross hadn't been so lucky.
Pete accelerated down the dirt road as fast as he dared to drive while Clark was fastening his safety belt. "She was headed toward Smallville. I don't know if we can catch her."
"Don't have an accident," Clark said. "She isn't driving in traffic. The road's usually pretty clear at this time on Sunday."
Pete eased up just slightly as they approached the turn onto the highway. The red Chevrolet skidded around the corner, the rear of the car fishtailing slightly and Pete straightened it out, shoving his foot to the floor as he did so. "I don't want any more drunks killing anybody -- even themselves. Why didn't they take her license away?"
"They did. She took Lois's keys," Clark said, peering ahead. As they went over a slight rise in the highway he could see the Lane car, a tiny spot of blue far ahead on the straight, wide-open stretch. "There she is."
"Yeah." Pete set his jaw. "We'll catch her."
Clark unobtrusively gripped the edge of his seat as they nearly flew after Ellen Lane. The blue car grew steadily nearer and Clark could see that she was weaving slightly. The remaining vodka in that bottle, taken on an empty stomach, had definitely had an effect. "She's going to hit the turn in a minute. If she doesn't slow down she's going to go right over the bank into Wingate's pond. We're not going to make it."
A short distance ahead of the blue car the highway swung to the right in a wide arc. It was a known hazard to most of Smallville's teen driving population. On a dark night more than one car, returning to Smallville from the somewhat larger town of Rattlesnake Bend, had taken the turn a bit too fast. At the bottom of a ten-foot drop was a small pond and it wasn't at all unusual to see a car lying in it, half-submerged in the water. It had been some time since there had been a serious accident involving the pond but Ellen hadn't driven on this highway except as a passenger, and she wasn't exactly in top driving form at the moment.
Another car was approaching from the opposite direction. The other driver was moving at a moderate speed, obviously ready for the turn. Ellen didn't slacken her speed one bit and Clark gritted his teeth, knowing what was going to happen.
The VW swerved suddenly as Lois's mother belatedly realized that the road was turning. She took the curve too fast and swung wide, crossing the double line just as the other car hit the curve in the opposite direction. Brakes screeched as Ellen jammed on her brakes. The blue car nicked the rear bumper of the other vehicle and skidded sideways in a slow spin. The other car slewed around as the driver fought for control but the VW's wheels hit the shoulder and the car tilted almost in slow motion and rolled over the bank.
Pete brought his car to a screeching halt and Clark shoved open the door and leaped from the vehicle almost before they had stopped moving. Without a pause, he charged to the bank and skidded down it, nearly losing his footing as the soft dirt crumbled under him.
The VW was lying in the pond nose down and sinking slowly sideways. He could see Ellen through the window. His mother-in-law wasn't moving and he scrambled down toward her, praying under his breath. If Ellen had been killed, Lois would never forgive herself for leaving the keys where her mother could find them. He reached the pond and plunged into it without hesitation.
Against all odds, Ellen was actually wearing her seat belt, and he could see her breathing, although she appeared to be unconscious and her nose was bleeding. Clark seized the door handle and tried to wrench the door open.
It was locked and the car was sinking by the second. He looked frantically around for something, anything, that he could use to force open the door.
Pete's head appeared over the top of the bank. "Is she alive?"
"Yeah, but the door's locked. Do you have a tire iron?"
"Yeah. Just a second." Pete's face vanished. Clark turned back to the sinking car and rapped on the glass.
"Ellen! Wake up!"
She didn't open her eyes, but at least the car appeared to have stopped sinking. On the minus side, water was rapidly leaking into the car through the opposite door. If Ellen was badly hurt and didn't wake up, she could easily drown or die of her injuries before Clark could get her out.
From above, Pete reappeared and slid down the bank toward him, clutching a tire iron in one hand. "Here!"
Clark took the metal bar and examined the car, looking for the best place to use it. If he broke the window next to Ellen's face he could easily cut her. The rear window looked like his best bet, he decided, and he went to the back, raised the bar and hit the glass. He hoped Lois would forgive him for breaking the window, but there didn't seem to be any other choice. Hopefully the VW wasn't beyond repair. There were several large dents in its exterior but at least it wasn't on fire or anything. Besides, it was insured.
Carefully, he broke all the loose glass out of the frame to minimize the possibility of cutting himself and reached cautiously through the aperture. He couldn't quite reach the lock, no matter how he stretched but suddenly an idea hit him. He took the tire iron in his hand and tried again. The bar reached easily and, after a moment's fumbling, he managed to hook the tire iron under the button and pry gently upward. After that it was the matter of a moment to squirm backward, make his way around to the door and open it.
Mindful of the first aid class he had taken the previous summer, he eased Ellen out of the car, assisted by Pete, keeping her back and neck straight. When they had her lying on the muddy bank of the pond, he glanced up the side of the ten-foot drop, belatedly recalling the other vehicle. "Is the other car all right?" he asked.
"Yeah." Pete got to his feet. "They were stopped on the shoulder when I went to get the tire iron."
"Hey!" The call came from above. Clark looked up.
The face of Tom Johnson, Wayne Irig's son-in-law, was looking down at them. "Are you guys all right?"
"Yeah, but she's not," Pete said. "We need an ambulance."
Another man appeared, this one in a Sheriff's uniform, and Clark took a relieved breath as Vern Harris, Rachel Harris's father, slid over the bank and dropped beside them a moment later. He knelt beside Ellen Lane, ascertaining that she was still breathing, and then glanced at Clark and Pete. "Are you two all right?"
"Yes sir," Clark said.
"There's an ambulance on the way," Sheriff Harris said. "Want to tell me what happened?"
From above three other faces appeared, looking down at the drama below. Appalled, Clark saw Barbara Johnson, Celia Johnson and Lucy Lane. From somewhere in the distance but approaching rapidly, came the distinct wail of a siren.
**********
tbc
